


Positive Charge

by adiduck (book_people)



Series: Heterodyne!Sorin FanFanFic [4]
Category: Girl Genius
Genre: Alcohol, Discussion of sexual activity, Gen, M/M, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 19:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3393032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/book_people/pseuds/adiduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven years before the beginning of canon, Sorin Petrescu, tentative Lord Heterodyne, is twenty-one. He has also never been laid. This is apparently more distressing than one would assume.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Positive Charge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Askerian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Askerian/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Nuée Ardente](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2067129) by [Asuka Kureru (Askerian)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Askerian/pseuds/Asuka%20Kureru). 



> A very silly ficlet I wrote because I wanted to write and Asuka and I thought it would be funny. Ficfic, once again, for Nuee Ardente--an AU where her OC Sorin turns out to be a Heterodyne (but not _the_ Heterodyne. Agatha shows up about seven years after this little blurb). Enjoy!

Stanislava was on duty.

She was also pleasantly tipsy. Normally, those two states of being would never happen at the same time, but at the moment Master Sorin was parked at Castle Wulfenbach, surrounded on all sides by solid steel walls and nearly 2000 jaegers who would all willingly swallow tar for him, so she figured she had a bit of leeway.

She wasn’t the only one, either! Dario and Milosh were also on duty, and they’d had a lot more than she had! And they were all a lot _less_ tipsy than Master Sorin, who had passed tipsy a long time ago and was now very comfortably seated in “drunk,” and it would have been rude to let him get that way alone.

Anyway, Veli had the night off, and he _definitely_ hadn’t come to the same bar as Master Sorin, so it’s not like he’d ever find _out_ to dress her down! Right. That made sense to her. She took another drink and then patted Master Sorin consolingly on the head as he sighed despondently. Master Sorin wasn’t _always_ a mopey drunk, but it happened, and considering what Velimir was likely off _doing_ at this very moment, none of them were particularly surprised it was going to be one of those nights.

“I am going to die a _virgin_ ,” her Master declared into his folded arms on the table top. Dario, who’d been mid-gulp during this declaration, snorted beer into his nose and had to turn away, coughing. Milosh considerately pounded on Dario’s back.

“Hyu iz not going to die a virgin,” Stani informed Master Sorin, ignoring Dario. “Hyu iz gon have to have sex at _least_ de vunce to have de babies, jah? Hy mean, vill probably have to be a lady, since hyu iz not really into de biology tings, bot--”

“Ugh, no, stop,” Master Sorin whined, putting his head directly on the table so he could cover his ears with his hands. Stani grinned, waved at the waitress to get another drink. The waitress waved back and went to get everyone another round.

Stani liked this bar, actually. It was used to a wide variety of clientele of varying tastes and sizes, and had taken the time to learn how to treat them. She made a mental note to leave a big tip.

“Vot? Hy iz chust saying—“ she began.

“You’re evil and I dislike you immensely,” Master Sorin informed her.

“Dot iz a lie, hy iz a _delight_.”

“Probably hyu vould haff better luck iffen hyu vos less picky,” Milosh offered, before Master Sorin could admit that this clever and witty argument was absolutely correct and he had no rebuttal. Stani huffed and consoled herself with the beer the waitress had just brought over.

“I’m not that picky,” Master Sorin insisted, sitting up to glare at Milosh blearily. “I am only _reasonably_ picky. I have reasonable requirements. Like being not ugly and interested and not married or diseased. Or a jerk.” He turned and reached decisively for his new beer.

“Ho, vell,” Stani said, doing her level best to keep a serious look on her face, “hy haff no hydea vhy hyu haven’t found somevun den. De type ov guy who picks pipple op in pubs iz often all ov dose tings!”

“I nearly went with someone the other month,” Sorin said, taking a drink. “But then Lyubo said he had crotch rot.”

 _Thank hellfire for Lyubo_ , Stani thought, as Dario choked again.

“Probably goot hyu didn’t go, den,” Milosh pointed out, somehow managing to keep a straight face.

“But it means I _didn’t have sex_ ,” Master Sorin pointed out, like this was the prevalent point of fact in the situation.

“Fair,” Stani agreed. “Hokay, den ve help hyu.”

Master Sorin looked up from his beer and raised an eyebrow. Considering he was drunk enough to be talking about sex _without turning bright red_ , Stani felt this was perhaps a bit unfair. “No offense,” Sorin said, “but I think maybe all of you hanging around is part of the _problem_.”

“Naw,” Dario said, getting ahold of himself and grinning at their charge. “Iffen he ken’t handle a leedle gauntlet like a squad ov jaegers, he probably iz boring.”

“I wouldn’t mind boring,” Master Sorin insisted, grumpily. “Not boring is not on the list. Seriously, I love you guys, but next time I have a shot can you please go stand outside the pub or something.”

“Nope,” Milosh told him, and handed him another beer as a consolation prize—looked like Dario’s. Pfff. Sorin took it and scowled at him.

“Ve ken be part ov de solution, though,” Stani insisted. “Ve find a goot candidate for hyu.”

“You don’t know what I’m looking for,” Master Sorin grumbled.

“ _Hyu_ dun know vot hyu iz looking for,” Dario pointed out, warming up to the subject. “Vot iz ‘not ugly’ ennyvay.”

Master Sorin blinked. And then he frowned, thoughtfully. “Huh,” he said.

“ _See_ ,” Dario said, triumphantly. “Hyu dun _know_.” He reached for his beer, realized that Master Sorin was holding it, and then scowled at Milosh, who was drinking his _own_ beer and radiating innocence. Dario waved at the waitress and held up two fingers.

Really, really big tip. Definitely.

“No, wait, I do,” Master Sorin insisted. “He’d have to… does anyone have a napkin?” He pulled out a pen and started—was that— _was he writing an algorithm_ oh sweet lightning he was! Stani cracked up. Master Sorin ignored her, tongue out as he concentrated. Dario fell off his chair, quietly doubled over in silent laughter.

“Dot iz lots of letters,” Milosh opined, sounding rather choked himself.

“There are lots of parameters,” Sorin insisted. “See, ‘x’ is the—guy? I think it’s the guy. No, wait, I made it ‘not ugly guy’, just ‘guy’ is ‘A’. Ugh, I hate math,” their Master complained, throwing down his pen in disgust. “There are too many variables for this anyway. Maybe I should just build a clank—urgh.” He made a face. “No, never mind, that’d be really gross, it either wouldn’t be able to say no or it would feel really pressured to say yes.” He wrinkled his nose. “…Also, it would be cold.”

“Minor details,” Dario gasped from under the table. Stani wiped her eyes and grinned.

Master Sorin was eyeing his algorithm again, thoughtful. “Maybe if I made ‘fit’ part of variable ‘B’,” he muttered.

“Mebbe hyu should make a list of para-parm-a list ov vot makes somevun not ugly,” Milosh suggested, stealing one of Dario’s new beers while he was still under the table. “Den hyu ken plug it in.”

“Well, at that point I might as well just make a list and go down it in order,” Master Sorin grumbled. “…Oh.” Dario lost it again. “Don’t laugh at me.” Master Sorin kicked him under the table and flipped the napkin over. “Okay, okay. Um… Well, not put off by jaegers, I guess. Or constructs. Or, like, people of different races. Let’s go with ‘not a bigot’.” He wrote that down. Stani looked over his head at Milosh, and then resisted the urge to pat her Master’s hand. Master Sorin was adorable sometimes, red _fire_.

“Also not another Spark,” Master Sorin continued, glaring furiously as he wrote it down. “It’s bad enough _I’m_ a Spark, we don’t need both of us potentially kicking each other into the madness place and then… then getting _distracted_. Sex. Sex is the goal that is going to happen.”

“Goot hydea,” Milosh agreed. Stani snorted, drained her beer and stole Dario’s remaining one.

“Actually, no minion types for the same reason,” Master Sorin mused. “Well, maybe the _good_ minions are okay. The ones that are good at keeping Sparks on task.”

“De task beink sex,” Stani offered.

“Yes,” Master Sorin said, and made a note. Stani snickered into her beer mug, too amused. “And… hm, well, funny, maybe. But not _mean_ funny. Friendly funny. And nice. No jerks—that was on my first list, but _really_. But not the kind who would let himself get steamrolled either, that’s not appealing. And, like, able to keep up with me. Just… not really out of shape or anything… really, _in_ shape would be nice—and smart, I guess, but he doesn’t have to be _super_ smart, I dunno, I just want to maybe have a conversation with him first. And--oh, actually, also experienced maybe. So one of us knows what he’s doing. Yeah, okay…”

 _Should he also glow green and have goat legs_ , Stani didn’t say. Milosh was pinching his lips as well, gave Stani a knowing look.

Right, this was definitely straying off the topic of describing what Master Sorin would find ‘not ugly’. Stani decided a bit of steering was in order. She drained her beer. “Vot should he _look_ like, though,” she asked.

Master Sorin looked at her, blinking. “…I dunno, attractive? And, like, no open sores,” he offered. Dario stuck his head out from under the table and stole his beer back from Milosh.

“Ken he be a redhead?” he asked, almost offhand.

Master Sorin blinked down at him. “…I guess? Why?”

“No reason,” Dario said. “Vot about blond? Brown hair? …Bald? Vot color do hyu like?” Oh, that was a good idea. Stani nodded at Dario approvingly, shared a look with Milosh. Dario winked back at her before turning to Master Sorin again.

“…Oh! Um… I don’t have a preference?” Master Sorin shrugged. Stani managed not to smack her forehead with supreme effort.

Milosh rolled his eyes where Master Sorin wouldn’t see and tried again. “Tall or short?”

“…uh, taller than me?”

Great, Master Sorin was short, that didn’t really rule out anyone at all.

“Do hyu like guyz vit de muscles or guyz who iz verra skinny?” she asked. Master Sorin turned to look at her, lines beginning to form around his eyes as he started to get a bit stressed. “Say…” she looked around the room, finding a reedy looking man over in a corner. “Dot guy,” she said pointing. “Like him, or should he be bigger?”

“Oh, god, don’t _point_ at him,” Master Sorin said, eyes wide and suddenly blushing.

“Oh, he iz not paying attention, he iz schtaring at hiz dinner partner’s breasts,” Stani said, waving her hand dismissively. “Bigger or goot?”

“…He’s… I…” Master Sorin put his head in his hands. “He’s okay. Too skinny.”

“Hokay, vot about dot vun?” Stani pointed at a man who was two tables over—more on the rotund side, not much real muscle on him. Master Sorin peeked through his fingers, almost like he couldn’t help it.

“…Mm, well at least it doesn’t look like I’ll break him in _half_ ,” he muttered, face so red through his fingers it looked a little painful. Ha! Now they were getting somewhere!

“Vot about dot guy,” Milosh asked, nodding casually at the other side of the room, where a middle-aged guy was sitting with his legs crossed on the table, drinking a brandy and looking bored.

“Oh, _huh_ ,” Master Sorin said, putting his hands down. _“He’s_ not bad.”

“Leetle old,” Dario opined. Master Sorin shrugged, and Stani and Dario exchanged a significant look. _Interesting_ …

For the next fifteen minutes or so, the three jaegers picked their way through the bar’s male customers. Master Sorin got steadily less embarrassed about it as nobody noticed them pointing—or maybe just steadily more drunk so he didn’t care as much, it was hard to say. Stani was _definitely_ tipsy now, so it was kind of impressive Master Sorin was still sitting up!

“Hokay,” Dario declared, arms crossed on the table and chin resting on them, hat tilted at a precarious angle on the top of his head. “Ve haff narrowed it down to de middle-aged guy vit de salt-und-pepper beard und de guy vot looks like he spends lots ov time lifting tings vit de red hair. Und de vinner iz…”

“…the older guy,” Master Sorin declared, and drained his beer. Milosh and Stani applauded.

“Hokay!” Dario said, grinning. “Now, hyu shouldn’t ask _him_ out becawz hy know him und he likez de vimmen bot—“

“He _does_?” Master Sorin said, and let his forehead clunk onto the table. “ _Ugh_ , that _keeps happening_. I am _never going to get laid_ \--”

“ _Bot_ ,” Dario interrupted, “ve ken use him for _hydeas_. Dere iz tens ov thousands of pipple on dis dirigible, _vun_ ov dem vill look like him.”

Master Sorin sighed. Milosh patted him on the shoulder and stole his beer. “He looks like de Baron, except vit a beard,” he mused, taking a sip. “Und less crazy hair.”

“Hm?” Master Sorin looked up and squinted at the man. “Oh, he does. Yeah, the Baron’s pretty hot.” He put his head back on the table again.

Stani choked. Dario started howling with laughter. Milosh looked like he’d just bitten into something unexpectedly gooey. “De _Baron_?” he asked incredulously.

“Mm,” Master Sorin agreed to the table. “He’s got _amazing_ shoulders. And have you seen his pectorals? _Damnation_.”

Stani opened her mouth, closed it again, discarded the first three responses that came into her head. “Vhen did _hyu_ see hiz pectorals?” she finally asked.

“Oh, you can tell from the way his clothes fit,” Sorin said, turning his head so he was still lying on the table but looking in her general direction. “The cloth sort of… clings, you know. It’s obvious.”

“…So, hyu iz takink de available evidence und _extrapolating_ ,” Stani said, grin spreading on her face in spite of herself. “Oh _ho_!”

Master Sorin immediately turned red again. “Oh, shut up,” he moaned, turning to press his forehead to the table again. “I’m twenty-one and I have _never gotten laid_ , it’s not my fault!”

Dario sounded like he was going into spasms under the table. Stani kicked him hard, heard the air go out of him in an _ooph_ before the wild cackling started again. Oh well, she’d tried.

“Dot’s not so bad, really,” Milosh was saying to Master Sorin, waving the waitress over again. “Brandy pliz. No, bot hyu remember Gavriil, Master? He iz tree-hundret-fifty-sumting und he haz not gotten laid either!”

“Ah, dot’s different, he doezn’t vant to,” Stani said, thinking better of it about midway through saying it and somehow unable to stop. Master Sorin groaned again, shoulders slumping.

“Maybe I should make a pass at the Baron and see what happens,” he mused to the old wood. “It could work, and if it doesn’t my death will be swift.”

“ _Do it_ ,” Dario said, apparently finding breath to stick his head out and give their Master _terrible, suicidal advice_. “Do it for _all ov us_.”

Stani kicked him again, leg nearly colliding with Milosh’s. Dario _oophed_ again and went back under the table, still laughing.

“Don’t do it,” Milosh advised.

“Iz a _verra bad idea_ ,” Stani added, just for emphasis.

“…I’m going to do it,” Master Sorin said, and sat up.

“ _Yaz_ ,” Dario cried under the table, victoriously.

“ _No_ ,” Stani said.

“Yes,” Master Sorin said, very firmly, and pushed himself up from his chair and away from the table.

Thankfully, he lost his balance, took three windmilling steps backward, and landed flat on his ass in the middle of the floor. “Okay,” he said, lying down to stare at the ceiling. “Apparently, no.”

Stani sent up a little prayer to the gods of booze and picked up her beer to join Master Sorin on the floor. Master Sorin accepted the beer wordlessly. Dario crawled out, still hiccoughing a little, and flopped down next to Master Sorin. Milosh waited until his brandy got to the table and then joined them as well, sitting on Dario’s other side and incidentally making the people at the table behind him subtly move about 20 centimeters away. Stani smiled brightly at them, teeth out. They scooted away even further.

“Mebbe hyu try sumvun not de Baron vhen hyu ken stand again,” she suggested, turning back to Master Sorin. Master Sorin harrumphed, sat up enough to take another sip of beer before flopping again.

“Maybe I should just…” Master Sorin started, and oh no, that was the depressed voice. If they returned Master Sorin to Veli depressed they were all going to _die_. Quick, quick, uuuuum…

“Hyu could alvayz schtart a harem vit de guard boyz,” she said. Wait, what?

“Wait,” Master Sorin said, “what?”

“Vhat?” Stani said.

“ _Vhat_ ,” Milosh said, looking horrified. Dario cracked up again.

“Oh my _god_ , Stani, _no_ ,” Master Sorin said, looking just as horrified as Milosh. “Red _lightning_ why would—oh _god_ no stop someone help I’m picturing it—“

Now Milosh looked sort of offended. “It vouldn’t be _dot_ bad,” he grumbled. Dario wheezed. Stani cracked up too, laid down next to her Master and curled up, cackling.

“Noooo it’s not _funny_ ,” Master Sorin said, grabbing his head like the thought was causing him physical pain.

“Iz… iz _traditiona—_ ho red fire hy ken’t effen—“ Dario dissolved into laughter again. Master Sorin punched him in the shoulder.

“I hate you _all_ ,” he declared.

“Hyu lurve os, really,” Stani said, getting ahold of herself and propping herself on Master Sorin’s chest, batting her eyes at him ridiculously.

“…I kind of do,” Master Sorin said, and closed his eyes. “It’s terrible, actually. How did this even happen, how is this my life.”

…Awwwwww. Stani patted him, smiling in spite of herself.

“Ve find hyu sumvun to lose hyu virginity vit,” she declared.

Master Sorin snorted. “Okay.”

“Not tonight, though,” she continued. “Tonight hyu iz too drunk und it vould be bad.”

“Fair enough,” Master Sorin agreed.

“Goot,” Stani said, and laid back down again. “Now finish hyu beer, ve iz blockink de vay to de bar und pipple iz starting to get tetchy.”

“Oka—wait, what?” Master Sorin started to sit up, turning around to look at the people staring at them oddly and attempting to move around them. Then he laid back down and groaned. “Just kill me,” he said, red as a beet.

“Nope,” Milosh said contentedly.

“You’re all fired.”

“Hokay, Master. Finish hyu beer.”

“Fine,” Master Sorin grumbled, and sat up and finished his beer. “There. Now take me to bed—wait. No, that came out wrong—“

Dario and Stani both cracked up. Even Milosh started laughing, helplessly. Master Sorin groaned and hid his face in his hands again, and then he started laughing too.

* * *

They did eventually get him to his room that night, although it turned out the straight hallways of Castle Wulfenbach were considerably more treacherous when one was sort of drunk and carting a very drunk Heterodyne along with one. Master Sorin made it about halfway to the bed and then sat down, declaring that he was going to sleep there tonight. The three of them ended up sleeping there with him—wouldn’t do to let their Master make a drunken idiot of himself alone, after all.

The hangover the next morning was a bitch, but Veli’s face when he stuck his head in and saw the state they were in almost made up for it.


End file.
